One Piece: The Resistance
by Vreck
Summary: A disillusioned Marine officer attempts to form a ragged group of pirates in a fight against a revolutionary movement as well as persecution by the government.
1. The Mariejois Incident

**Author's Note: Awright, this fanfic is being fixed. There've been a couple of major plot holes and discrepancies. And as Sonic the Hedgehog would say, THAT'S NO GOOD. With this will come some plot changes, so sorry 'bout that. The good thing is I'll bring out two new characters earlier than I would've.  
**

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**Chapter One: The Mariejois Incident**

In the deep underground catacombs and chambers of the holy city of Mariejois, sentries patrolled a darkened chamber suspended over a seemingly endless pit. Although they did not know what they were guarding, an ominous air hung around the room and always, always the sentries would keep their watch, never to fall asleep or stop for a brief game of cards- it was obvious what they were guarding was important.

In the shadows, a man dressed in a hooded cloak of dark indigo wound his way across the room. He wore shoes that concealed his every step, and every piece of exposed flesh was liberally coated with a substance akin to war paint. To any of the human senses, this man was invisible. With utmost care, he disarmed the ineffectual traps surrounding the enigmatic object, and slowly took out a vial of extremely potent acid. As the lock dissolved on the case, he muffled the hissing by covering the immediate vicinity with a thick cloth. He placed the cloth back into his bag and began the strenuous task of removing the seastone walls of the container.

…_hehe… They didn't expect a non-Devil-Fruit user to perform this heist; apparently… that gives me an edge. _As he finished removing the walls, a sight of a solid block made of what apparently seemed to be obsidian greeted his eyes. _…can't believe they went through all that trouble to conceal this thing… well, I'll find out what it is when I get out. _As he carefully lifted the object from the pedestal, an alarm sounded and every gun in the room began firing en masse at the pedestal's area. Mysteriously unaffected by the bullets, he ran as quickly as possible out into the open. He flung the object into the general direction in which the backup provided to him by his employers was, which was just as well, due to the fact that he was quickly surrounded by Marines. They shot at them, but were stunned that their artillery had no effect whatsoever on the man. The captain of the Marines ran out of the group surrounding him and put him into a half nelson. The thief was dragged onto a Marine ship and was placed into a high security holding cell. For the next five hours of careful monitoring, nothing of interest occurred until a guard noticed movement. The man in the cell was detaching his left arm! With some deft manipulation of the arm, he attached it onto the hinges of the door and proceeded to huddle in a corner under his jacket. The cell door blew off its hinges with an almighty explosion, and a great fireball surrounded the high-security cabin of the Marine ship.

The mysterious prisoner was still alive after the blast, and he bolted out of the newly created opening while stealing the recently deceased Marine's military sabre. Although charred and blackened in the explosion, it was still usable and was therefore salvaged for later use. Seeing as this was a hopeless situation, he hacked a large plank out of the deck of the ship and as a last-ditch effort, flung himself into the ocean.

Corporal Zack Riley, who was dragged onto this crew merely by a lack of things to do, gave a smile. Recent events had transpired much to his advantage. He quickly drew his gun and fired a blast at the escapee's back. The unfortunate fugitive gave a yelp and began bleeding.

"Sir, he's not dead yet!" shouted Riley to his commanding officer. Said his officer, "Let him suffer. That bullet's going to do its job sooner or later. And even if he survives the wound or the infection, he'll soon go mad of thirst… water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink… I've seen it before, lad, and it's not a pretty sight. Tell the helmsman to turn this ship around- we're going back to HQ for repairs."

The escapee gently bobbed on his recently stolen plank. Ignoring the badly stinging pain in his right shoulder, he set to work quickly. Using the sabre, he hacked out a cryptic message on the piece of wood in a language known to a select few people in the world, a select few who are hunted down mercilessly by the World Government. Having done that, he waited to die a painful death. In a twenty minutes that seemed like days, his will deserted him and he drew his last breath.

A few hours later, a corpse was seen by a passing merchant ship in the area. Some birds were pecking at it, trying to extract all nutritional value from the cadaver. The ship sailed away, eager to quickly escape the grisly scene. Nobody noticed the piece of wood clutched in a dead man's grasp.

--

The recently damaged Marine ship slowly made its way back to its headquarters. Still confused at the day's recent events, Corporal Zack Riley walked back to the barracks, deep in thought. As he passed the Captain's cabin, he heard the captain making his report for the day.

"Sir, the thief escaped. He blew the door of his cell and killed the guard by removing a prosthetic arm we didn't know he had and fixing it to the door. How he survived the blast I don't know. He took the dead guard's saber, hacked a plank out of the deck, and jumped into the sea. Corporal Riley managed to shoot him above the right shoulder."

Zack grinned. This might mean a pay raise for him. He continued to eavesdrop on his captain's report.

A new voice coming out of the Den Den Mushi started to speak, but Zack did not recognize it. "How did he manage to survive an explosion strong enough to break the hinges off a door, yet be killed by a bullet shot from a regular pistol?" Zack wasn't really sure about this one. "Also, do you think he knew what the object he stole was for? If he didn't, why would he go through all the trouble of stealing it?"

"I doubt he knows what it's for, since very few people in the world know. Unless there was a Marine that leaked that information, nobody outside the World Government would know about the Three Keystones." Zack listened more intently, since neither did he. "Either he steals for the sheer unadulterated hell of it, or someone with information leaked from the Marines commissioned him to do the job. I'd like to find his body, though, just to find some peace of mind. We didn't find the Keystone on him, but who knows if he's stashed it some other prosthetic we don't know about?"

"Sure. We'll have five recon ships out within a ten mile radius of where your ship was in about four hours. Thanks for all your help, and I'll see you at base in a while."

The Den Den Mushi began to emit a loud, single tone, and the captain hung up. He began to leave his cabin, so Zack bolted to the barracks and pulled the sheets over his head, and the world turned toward night.

The next morning, Zack woke to find the ship fully repaired and docked at the Marine's base. He and his fellow Marines went onto the deck and reported for duty. As they had been sent out on an emergency run the previous day, they earned a day off. The crew quickly dispersed and went off on their own business. As Zack turned to leave, however, his captain grabbed him.

"Corporal- good job yesterday. We'd like to see you, though, there're some mysteries we'd like to clear up. Follow me, if you will."

Zack trailed closely behind the captain and found himself in a room containing, surprise of surprise, the corpse of the escapee. A sabre with traces of blood on it lay next to him, and he had a massive stab would in his face.

"Doctor, if you will, please brief us," said the captain.

"Gladly. As you can see, there is a severe stab wound in the escapee's face. This, and the sabre found embedded in it when we found him, leads me to believe that he committed suicide in order to escape the slow death of thirst," explained the doctor.

"We have a question we'd like to clear up, Doctor. This man managed to survive a high powered blast with no apparent protection, yet was killed by a bullet from a Marine-issue pistol. Can you explain this?"

"Uhm... no, not really..." muttered Zack.

"Well, we know that he was not a devil fruit user; otherwise he would have been unable to remove the seastone walls of the containment chamber without being detected," said the doctor. " This leads me to believe that this-" the doctor held up a jacket so dark it seemed to absorb light "- has been combined with a devil fruit. We've tested it, and it seems to have been combined with the Shubi Shubi no Mi. Anything that you do to it will have no effect whatsoever, unless the weapon you're using happens to be seastone, or, as it so fortuitously occurred in this situation, he was in the ocean.

"And then there's the matter of this," said the doctor, while holding up a piece of wood with odd symbols carved into it. The captain gaped at the carving.

"This guy knows the language of the Poneglyphs too?" demanded the captain.

"Apparently so…"

"What're Poneglyphs?" asked Zack.

"Nothing you need to worry about," said the captain. "You're free to go now, Corporal."

"Actually, sir, I'd like to ask something of you. Would it be all right if I kept that jacket?" asked Zack. "I'm pretty sure it could help me with something I've recently been testing." He grinned.

"Doctor, is there any reason why Zack can't have the jacket? Does it need to be further tested?"

"Er, no, I guess not…," mumbled the doctor.

"Then it's yours! I'm sure it'll come in handy for you someday. As that seems to be all, you can go now."

Zack gave a smile of manic happiness, grabbed the jacket, and bounded off to his bunk.

"Crazy kid…"

The captain walked off to the general vicinity where Zack had headed, shaking his head and smiling.

--

Zack returned to his bunk, trying on the jacket. It fit better than it could have, so he was happy with that. He put it on, produced a large blunt instrument from the depths under his bunk, and gave himself a good thumping. It did no damage whatsoever, and Zack was pleased with his result. Still uncertain of the powers of his new jacket, he flung himself out of his five-story-high window and hit the ground with nary a scratch. The novelty of guiltlessly jumping off cliffs wore off rather quickly, though, and he began to set his plan into motion.

It was almost unthinkably lucky he got his hands on this jacket...

**--**

**Author's Note: I hope you liked this chapter better than my old one! There's not much difference but soon there will be. Also, interesting fact: This fanfic stemmed from me randomly shouting "I'm a veteran suicide bomber!" at school. In any case, the new chapter with new characters and other cool things like that should be up in three days. I've got a busy summer...**


	2. Do You Smell Something Burning?

**Author's Note: This story starts around the Drum Island Arc. Just so you know.**

--

**Chapter Two: Do You Smell Something Burning?**

The moon painted the night sky above most of South Blue an eldritch shade of green, and cast an unhealthy pallor on all who chose to be outside one this eventful night. A small Marine scoutship, apparently abandoned, bobbed up and down listlessly a short ways from the coast of an unfortunate island chosen to be the One Piece equivalent of Bikini Atoll. On the boat, pale hands lowered a modified cannonball into a surprisingly large cannon, trembling as if realizing the magnitude of the task (and the possible ramifications of it backfiring). The cannonball nested snugly in the barrel of the cannon, a small spark began to eat its way up the fuse, inching every closer to its impending destiny. Finally, with a CRACK noise and a belching of smoke, a cannonball whistled through the air, hit the approximate center of the island, and turned the night sky red.

A scalding wave of dry heat caught the sails of the scoutship with a resounding FWUMP, and it flew over the ocean at speeds normally requiring a seatbelt. However, since our intrepid cannon-lighter was not currently in the possession of one, a teenager paddling a fishing boat towards the direction of the explosion looked up in mild bewilderment as the scoutship flew directly over his head and the screaming resonating from within it grew gradually quieter. Several hours later, he reached the island on which the explosive was tested on, and muttered, once again in bewilderment, "Holy shit... I'm pretty sure there was an island here a month ago..."

--

Back at the Marine base, Corporal Zachary Riley removed his gear, put on his recently acquired and freshly laundered jacket, picked up a silver briefcase from the foot of his bed, and strolled leisurely through the Marine base like a soldier on his day off. He descended lower and lower, until he reached a steel door, apparently coated with a layer of seastone. He stepped back from the door so as not to be in contact with it, opened his silver briefcase, and strapped a few white blocks to the hinges of the door. He stepped back further, sat down and crossed his legs, and whistled a brief segment of a complex tune. After a couple of seconds, the blocks detonated, and the door fell off its hinges. He walked into the recently opened door, grinned, spread his hands in a gesture of peace, and announced to the room in general, "Not quite good enough, gentlemen!"

An assortment of technicians walked up to greet him, while several others went to repair, and possibly make upgrades to the recently dehinged door. He shook the hands of various technicians until he reached one of apparently higher rank than the others. He looked around furtively to make sure he wasn't overheard, and whispered to the technician, "So, how did it go?"

In reply, the technician gave him the thumbs-up, slipped him a manila envelope, which Zack in reply tucked it safely into his briefcase and gave the technician a toothy smile. The doctor shuddered, thinking the feral grin somewhat akin to that of a crocodile (with or without banana), but by then Zack had turned away to leave. He happily sauntered through the door and flawlessly navigated the subterranean catacombs back to his lodgings (a far cry from the navigational skills of Roranoa Zoro).

Back in his room, he opened his briefcase and the manila envelope, respectively, and withdrew from it a large collection of papers, and one picture of the recent devastation of the test explosive. He goggled at this for a moment, then put the papers back in the envelope and replaced them in his briefcase. Then, he gave himself a pat on the back for a job well done.

--

Later on, the same teenager witnessing the experimental destruction of the South Blue island wandered around nearby islands until he eventually found a Marine base. As he shuffled across the various streets in search for the base, he made for a strange sight, and people in the street would stop and stare at the strange albino kid in an outdated ecclesiastical robe. The effect of the shapeless robe covering his whole body gave the impression that he had somehow mastered the art of levitation, and it was with this strange appearance of movement that he entered the first Marine base he could find, and boldly questioned the commanding officer at the base about the recent explosion. This did not elicit the reaction he was hoping for, and he was thrown, struggling, into the jail, all the while yelling that he didn't really mind what had happened, and that he just wanted to know what was going on. His comments ignored, he was placed in a cell, looking severely pissed off. After a long hour on the Den Den Mushi with the main technician of the explosive project who had previously spoke to Zack, there was a unanimous decision to send him over to a higher-security base to see whether or not he could be "reeducated". As they went to fetch their new prisoner, the officer looked on in puzzlement in the painstakingly drawn pentagram drawn on the wall of the cell door, apparently in the prisoner's own blood. The kid looked up at him, as if drawing sinister occult symbols on the walls of jail cells was an everyday occurrence, and said, "Well, what?"

--

A blisteringly dry summer heat was pounding on the heads of those unfortunate enough to be outside in the city of Alabasta. Inside the city's less popular casino, Rainbase, a minor commotion was occurring. A girl with a pitcher of beer in one hand and a fan of cards in the other was slurring her sentences and racking up surprisingly large amounts of chips. The other players looked ready to punch her, and one gave them an excellent reason to. Looking at the conveniently placed wall of bounty posters, he located a bounty poster almost exactly matching the inebriated player in front of them. He directed the attention of the players toward the poster labeled:

**Kalliope Phillips**

**Bounty: 50,000,000**

**Wanted for: N/A**

Oddly enough, the poster had a black X painted over it. It seemed that someone had been bright enough to fool the government into presuming her dead. Fortunately, thought the extremely annoyed card-players, she would earn that X over her bounty poster in no short notice. One slid a wrist blade from under his shirtsleeve, upon which an ace of spades was skewered. He grinned sheepishly at the other players, but walked purposefully toward the girl, who looked too drunk to notice. When he was almost close enough to stab, a flash of silver caught some peoples' eyes, and the would-be killer had an ornate wakizashi in his throat. The girl looked at the corpse with red-rimmed eyes, blearily sheathed the sword, and sat down again.

"...personal bubble, sheesh..."

--

A typhoon, a rare and unpredictable event especially in the Shabondy Archipelago, caused a torrential downpour on Grove 52, soaking a cloaked figure clutching a dark, lustrous, prism-like object. He walked up to an open stall and pulled off his hood, revealing a gaunt face slicked with rain and reflecting the moonlight. The exchange went along wordlessly and the cloaked figure left silently in the direction of Grove 1.

--

**Author's Note: I'm baaaack! Sorry for this wait. I have no excuses to offer to you, regrettably. Anyways, I'd like some reviews to see whether or not this story is a complete pile of dogshit. If it isn't, my morale will be greatly bolstered and more chapters will be forthcoming. Incidentally, tell me how many times you had to look in the dictionary while reading this chapter. )**


	3. Human Barbeque

**Author's Note: FLAAARRRWHARRRABARRAARBLEGLARARAFLBLEGHRKTTAMEEEPWHEOP. Sorry! I made some errors on the last chapter, so read it through again. It'll be better! I promise**!

--

**Chapter Three: Human Barbeque**

A standard seastone-hulled Marine issue ship bearing the insignia of the World Government traversed the Calm Belt with little obstruction. The breezy, relaxing atmosphere generally reserved for expensive spa resorts gave no indication of the ship's somewhat sinister mission.  
On the boat, a young man situated in the brig thoughtfully chewed his fingernails and added one last painstaking stroke to complete the insignia on his palm. He surveyed his workmanship with a criticizing eye, and pronounced the resulting ocragram acceptable. He placed his palm on the hull of the boat and _pushed_.

Outside, with the weather still as innocuous as possible, the seas began to churn.

--

Meanwhile, at the Marine base, Zachary Riley was sauntering throught corridors and reveling in his recent acquiration of invulnerability. Bombmaking savant he might have been, but a kid nonetheless he was. The temptation of completing otherwise suicidal jumps with impunity had waned, however, and now he was stuck inside making pointed remarks upon the homosexuality of his burlier colleagues. As it were, he should have gotten the snot kicked out of him were it not for the beneficial properties for his jacket. Curiously enough, the protective radius of his jacket extended to his entire body, which would as well explain his cursory dismissal of many viscious blows to his manhood.

Confused by his utter disregard for the violence inflicted on him, the disgruntled Marines went off to accost someone else, leaving Zack available to return to his private bunk. With nothing better to do, he went to sleep. After several hours of peaceful sleep, Zack found himself cuffed to his bunk with a grinning shadow looming over him about to end his existence in this current plane with a sudden, terminal blow. Zack was about the goad him into a futile strike when he realized the mysterious absence of his jacket. Having realized this, Zack sat up in the bunk and blearily asked the shadow, "Do you mind?"

The shadow, apparently at a loss for words, shrugged.

Zack rolled his eyes. "Humor me this, then. You've got me cuffed to this bunk and obviously know about the jacket I've recieved. So, answer this one question for me and you can go get on with your live, and, apparently, the lack of mine."

The shadow gave a dismissive nod, and Zack, trying not to push it too hard, truncated his query to "Why?"

At this, the shadow chuckled, as if this were a giveaway question on the pop quiz of a particularly sadistic religion teacher. However, at Zack's behest, he gave the answer in a sarcastic tone implying that he should already know this.

"Look, kid. You and your yuppie scientists made a bomb that's pretty much as good as a Buster Call. Obviously, we don't want you to be running around and making some on your own, now could we? Sorry, kid, but life's a bitch."

Zack gave a reptilian grin at the irony of this statement, and retorted, "Yes, it is."

The assassin barely had time to look puzzled before he disintegrated in a cloud of red mist. Zack stuck his tongue out both in concentration and in mockery of the recently deceased assassin and tried to grab his jacket with his foot. After a couple minutes, he had it back on, and retrieved from the depths of its pockets what seemed to be a stick of chewing gum. However, instead of freshening his breath with long-lasting flavor, he stuck in onto the chain of his handcuffs. After a small cracking noise, he was free, although his wrists were still chafing badly. Having freed himself from a somewhat difficult situation, he concentrated his efforts more so on getting the hell out of there.

--

The security at Rainbase generally ignore fights within the casino on the basis that eventually, they would sort themselves out, but the management frowns upon leaving bloodstains in the felt, seeing as it is extremely hard to get out. However, Kalliope Phillips, in blatant disregard to this basic guideline, was decapitation, eviscerating, bisecting, and disemboweling various bounty hunters in need of a quick fix of cash for another game of poker too thick or cocky to notice the rapidly accumulating pile of bodies. Since the resulting fracas was leaving blood, bone fragments, and chunks of vital organs all over various card tables in the vicinity, the security felt compelled to remove the unruly fighter from the premises. However, what they did not expect was the deaths of three of their colleagues, a severe injury to another, and a definite setback in the marriage prospects of another.

In any case, the time taken to remove her from the building was enough for the nearest Marines to arrive, where they found a girl handcuffed to a street sign still clasping the glass of beer, pointing and laughing maniacally at various people on the street, and licking her bloody sword all the while extolling a marvelous beverage called "Kool-Aid". Duly surprised by this, she was subsequently arrested and placed in prison.

--

Dawn came and left, and with it left a small Marine scout ship generally used for reconnoissance-type assignments. Standing at the prow was former Corporal Zachary Riley, looking vaguely bewildered but purposeful. He gave a Nazi-esque salute with a noncommittal salute to his former working area in a mocking, derisive manner. He sat down and waited patiently as the boat drifted ever farther from the base, and after a few minutes, a sudden snapping sound pierced the early morning air. Zack rubbed his hands in anticipation of the event it signaled, and was pleased to see, far off in the distance, nearly two-thirds of his base crumbling into oblivion and rubble. After he was certain no more entertainment could be extracted from the havoc he had so recently wreaked, he sat down and retrieved from the well-stocked supply room of the boat, a bowel-lacerating wheat and grain mixture to be placed in milk known as "cereal" and thereby completed the ultimate trifecta of crunchy onomatopoeia. Having began his day with a nutritious part of any breakfast, he sat back, satisfied with the excitement of being a fugitive.

Several weeks later, as he purchased a paper from a small, unremarkable island, he found the most recently printed bounty posters in a government-distributed newspaper. He unfurled the newspaper with a dramatic flourish, and was unsurprised when his poster wafted out.

**Name: Zachary Riley**

**Bounty: 43,000,000 B**

**Reason: Treason against the World Government**

Expecting the government to care more about his departure and subsequent damagement of property, Zack crumpled it up in a somewhat disappointed fashion, and began to think of more ways to raise his bounty.

**--**

**Author's Note: Whee! Uhm, I think. Anyways. My protagonist needs a nickname. There's a poll on my account, so ch-ch-ch-check it out.**


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